The Old Me
by Caz Malfoy
Summary: Crossover with CSI:Miami. The old Greg is dead and buried in a cemetery in Miami. Greg n Speed. Greg n Delko. SLASH! COMPLETE


_Disclaimer: I don't own CSI Vegas or CSI:Miami. I do own Daniel._

The Old Me

CSI Vegas/Miami Crossover

Greg Sanders/Eric Delko

"I kind of miss the old Greg Sanders."

David Hodges words echoed in his head as Greg pulled his car into his allocated spot in front of the apartment building. Staring out through the windshield, he wondered what people would say if he told them that the old Greg Sanders was dead. He could just imagine the look on their faces as he told them the old Greg Sanders lay buried, six feet under, in a cemetery in Miami, next to his lovers cold body.

The rain soaked through his clothes, making the material heavy as it clung to his frame. He was sure that the water must be cold but he couldn't feel anything. He had been numb for the past year. Ever since... that day.

Pushing the apartment door open he could still remember receiving the worst news anyone could ever get as if it were yesterday.

_He had been working late at the lab - trying to catch up on the backlog of DNA that Chandra had left when she stormed out of the lab two days before._

_As soon as he arrived home he hit the play button on his answering machine, smiling as Tim Speedle's voice filled the room. "Hey babe, how are you feeling? Don't worry about not passing your proficiency. Everyone makes mistakes when they're learning. You'll do fine at your next one and then you can come to Miami and we'll both get drunk to celebrate." Tim paused before continuing. "I have to go. Horatio just got a lead on where the fake jewels came from. Call me tonight after your shift. Love you."_

_Greg grinned and grabbed the phone, hitting speed dial one as he kicked off his shoes and made his way though the apartment._

_"Greg?" a female voice answered the ringing telephone._

_"Mrs Speedle?" Greg asked in surprise. "Where's Tim?" he questioned, knowing that Tim's parents lived in Syracuse and it was very unusual for them to be in Miami._

_Greg could almost hear Tim's mother frown. "Did you get my message?" she asked eventually._

_Greg looked at the machine and saw that he had one message he hadn't listened to yet. "I did," Greg told her. "I haven't played it yet though."_

_"I tried calling you on your cell but you weren't answering so I called you at home and you weren't picking up there either so I left you a message," she babbled._

_"Mrs Speedle," Greg interrupted. "What's wrong? Where's Tim?" he repeated, fear and dread starting to creep in._

_Mrs Speedle sighed. "Honey, you'd best down," Greg frowned but complied, "earlier Tim and Horatio went to a jewellery store to chase a lead. There was a shooting and Tim.. He... He…." she broke of with a harsh sob, unable to finish the rest of her sentence._

_Greg felt his stomach move into his throat with a sudden jolt. "What?" he whispered. "No. That's not possible. He can't be," he added desperately._

_"I'm so sorry honey. I know how you much you two meant to each other."_

_"He was going to come to Vegas next weekend," Greg whispered through his tears. "He said he wanted us to have a weekend where it was just us. We haven't seen each other for three months."_

_Greg spent most of the night on the phone with Mrs Speedle. The older woman appeared to be as desperate to talk to someone about what happened as much as Greg was and for that Greg was grateful - he didn't want to be alone. Several hours later when Greg ended the call, he knew that work would have to wait for a few more days. As much as the lab needed him right then, Tim's parents needed him more and there was no way he was going to miss his lovers funeral._

Greg sighed as he wearily rubbed his hand across his eyes. Sitting on the couch, feet on the coffee table, staring blankly at the television screen, he thought back to the funeral.

He had caught the first plane there was from Vegas to Miami. He hadn't bothered with accommodation. Gloria - Tim's mother - had told him that he could stay with them. He had been introduced to Tim's boss, Horatio Caine, and colleagues, Eric Delko and Calleigh Duquesne, as Tim's best friend at Greg's request. He knew that they didn't know about Tim's sexual preference nor his relationship with Greg. He had watched, tears rolling down his face, as Tim's casket was slowly lowered in the ground and he was sent off into the next life with a traditional gun salute.

Shaking his head and shoving the memories to the back of his head, to the place where he thought he had long since buried his memories of Tim and his death, he made his way into the bedroom. It was Friday, and even though he had the weekend off, he wanted to get an early start in the morning and run some errands.

**Greg sighed contently, relaxing on the beach towel. It was the first week of Spring Break and the first week of his Miami vacation.**

**A shadow fell over him suddenly. He frowned as he squinted up at the new comer. "Sorry," the man said, smiling apologetically. "Is anyone using this space?" he asked, pointing to the space next to Greg. "Everywhere else is packed."**

**Greg tore his gaze away from the other man's chest where he hoped he hadn't been staring too openly and glanced up the beach - which really was full. "No one's using it," Greg informed the stranger.**

**The other man smiled brightly as he laid his towel out in the sand next to Greg. "I'm Tim Speedle, by the way," he said, holding his hand out to Greg.**

**Greg smiled and propped himself up on one hand as he placed his other hand in Tim's pro-offered one. "Greg Sanders," he introduced himself, before he slipped his sunglasses back on and laid back, staring up at the sky.**

**Greg must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes again dusk was beginning to set in and the beach was practically deserted. He felt a slight pang of sadness when he noticed that Tim had left the beach as well.**

**He looked down when he felt something in his hand, smiling when he saw a scribbled note telling him to call Tim, followed by a phone number.**

Greg's eyes flickered open and he blinked sleepily as his eyes tried to focus in the dim light. He couldn't explain why, but he had the strangest feeling that someone was watching him as he slept.

He rolled over so that he was facing the window and froze when he saw the shadowy figure standing in the corner of the room. "Tim?" he whispered, flicking on the light switch.

Sure enough Tim appeared to be standing in front of him, looking exactly as Greg remembered, including the baggy shirt and stubble. "How?" he asked in disbelief as he shook his head.

"It's not important," Tim replied softly, smiling at him as he sat on the edge of the bed. "How are you baby?" he whispered, running his hand through Greg's hair.

"Ok, all things considered," Greg replied. "Hodges just brought back some bad memories," he whispered, leaning into Tim's caress.

"I'm just a bad memory, am I?" Tim smirked.

"I didn't mean it like that," Greg whispered. "I just,"

"Shh," Tim whispered, running his hand over Greg's cheek. "I know what you meant," he assured Greg, placing a gentle kiss on Greg's lips. He pulled away when he felt Greg's tears. "What's wrong, babe?" he cooed, wiping the tears away.

"I miss you," Greg admitted. "I don't have anyone to talk to anymore."

"What about Delko?" Tim smiled. "You talk to him, don't you?"

Greg blushed, "How do you know that?"

Tim smiled, "I've been watching over you for the past year, Greg," he said. "I know you feelings for him."

Greg looked away, "I know I shouldn't but I couldn't help it. We got to talking after your funeral and it just happened."

Tim put a finger to Greg's lips. "Why do you think you shouldn't like him?"

Greg just stared at him. "Because. I still love you. I can't do that to Eric. There's no way I can love him when my heart still belongs to you. It wouldn't be fair on him."

Tim smiled slightly though his own tears. "Maybe you don't start with love then?" he suggested gently. "You can't let me stop you from being with other people. You're only thirty, you can't be alone forever. Keep me alive in here," he gently placed his hand over Greg's heart, "but you can't be afraid to get close to Eric."

"I'm scared, Tim," Greg quietly whispered. "Eric's all the way in Miami. What if something happens to him like it did with you? I wouldn't be able to cope with losing someone else like that."

Tim smiled sadly. "I know that in your job there's a pretty high chance of what happened to me happening again, but think about it. Everyday you see people who do these horrible things to each other, there's always the risk of getting injured. Do us both a favour - get some sleep and call him. I'll feel better knowing that you've got someone to take care of you," he placed a gentle kiss on Greg's lips. "I love you, Greg," he whispered.

"I love you too, Tim," Greg replied. "I always will," he added as his eyelids started feeling heavy.

When Greg opened his eyes he was alone again. He still thought he had dreamt the events of the previous night. Until he turned over and saw his cell on the beside table next to the photo of Tim. He showered and shaved before he returned to the bed. He bit his lip as he picked up the cell before replacing it on the table - only to pick it up again a few seconds later.

Decisively he flipped the phone open, his finger hovering over the call button. He tried to think of reasons why he shouldn't call Eric but then he looked at Tim's picture and it felt as if the other man was glaring at him through the photographic image.

Just as he was about to hit the call button before he changed his mind, the doorbell rang.

"Eric? he asked in surprise as he opened the door to reveal the Cuban man. "What are you doing here?"

Eric shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he admitted, stepping past Greg into the apartment. "I went for a drive and arrived here."

"You drove here from Miami?" Greg questioned and Eric nodded his head.

"I just had to get away," Eric said. "It's been year since Tim died and I... I just didn't want to be alone."

Greg nodded his head, understanding what Eric meant. As the blond closed the door a figure across the road smiled before disappearing into the night.

"Hello!"

Tim frowned and looked down, a slight smile spreading across his face as he recognized the small boy that was standing in front of him. "Hi," he replied.

"Who are you?" the boy asked curiously as he sat on the ground, looking up at Tim, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Tim Speedle," Tim introduced himself. "But you can call me Speed if you want," he offered.

The boy nodded his head eagerly. "Ok," he whispered, picking at the grass by his feet.

"Now that's not fair," Tim mock-pouted. "You know my name but I don't know yours."

"I'm Daniel Delko-Sanders," the boy told him, grinning proudly.

"Well, Daniel," Tim smiled, "you shouldn't run off without telling your dads where you're going."

"They were walking too slow," Daniel scowled.

"Danny," a familiar voice called, "you shouldn't run off like that," Greg scolded gently, scooping the three year old off the ground. "Something bad could happen to you."

Daniel grinned, "I'm okay, daddy. Speed looked after me," he pointed to Tim who was chuckling lightly to himself.

Greg froze and looked down at Daniel. "Who... Who looked after you?" he questioned, following Daniel's finger but he saw nothing.

"Tim Speedle," Daniel repeated, sounding exasperated. "But he said that I could call him Speed."

"Hey," Eric Delko's voice said as the Cuban-Russian man jogged up to join Greg and Daniel. "There you are," he grinned, ruffling Daniel's hair.

"Dan, tell daddy who's been looking after you," Greg said quietly, staring at the gravestone.

"Speed," Daniel said, grinning over Greg's shoulder at Tim - who grinned back.

"Speed?" Eric repeated, his voice sounding choked. "But how?" he asked Greg quietly.

Greg shrugged his shoulder, "It's not possible, unless..."

"It _has_ been ten years," Eric reminded Greg. "This is the first time Daniel's been here. We come every year but Danny's never been. Maybe Speed knew we were going to bring him. You said it yourself that you thought you saw Tim's ghost but passed it off as a dream. What if you really did see him? It's not that much of a stretch for him to show himself to Danny," Eric said, wrapping an arm around Greg's waist.

"Tell them I've been watching over all of you for ten years, Danny," Tim requested quietly.

"He say's he's been watching us for ten years," Daniel repeated.

"I'm glad you took my advice, Greg," Tim said softly and Daniel repeated it to Greg.

Greg smiled, tears welling up in his eyes as he looked at the headstone. "I'm glad as well, Tim," he smiled up at Eric, kissing the taller man on the lips gently.

"He said thank you for keeping your promise, daddy," Daniel told Eric.

Eric grinned through his own tears. "What promise?" Greg asked curiously, looking up at his husband.

"Before I arrived at your house years ago, you remember?" he asked and Greg nodded his head. "I saw him as well," he admitted. "I promised him that I'd protect you with my life," he told Greg, blushing slightly.

Greg smiled brightly and leaned in for another kiss from Eric. "I love you," he whispered against the Cuban-Russian man's lips.

"I love you too, G," Eric whispered. "What do you say we get out of here? I think Danny-boy might want to go to the zoo to see the lions and tigers?" he looked at Daniel.

Daniel grinned and nodded his head. "Yay!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Thank you for watching over us," Greg said softly to Tim before he and Eric said their goodbyes for another year.

"Are you coming with us?" Daniel asked over Greg's shoulder.

Greg and Eric stopped, looking at Daniel in surprise. "He says he'll catch us up," Daniel explained.

Greg and Eric's laughter echoed slightly through the cemetery as they made their way back to Eric's car.

The End


End file.
